


That's Not A Euphemism, I Swear

by alinalotus



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I guess this is violence against vamps? I mean Darcy does chop a head off soooo, I mean if it makes you feel better you could pretend it's Edward Cullen, or whatever vampire most pisses you off/morally outrages you, tasertricks - Freeform, you guys this is so ridiculous I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:43:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinalotus/pseuds/alinalotus
Summary: “Um...mind if I grab your machete?” Darcy winced the second the words left her mouth; god, she didn't mean it likethat. She looked Tall, Dark and Homicidal up and down. Hmm...well, actually...





	That's Not A Euphemism, I Swear

**Prompt from writing-prompt-s Tumblr: _You're a killer dumping your latest victim into the river. Just as you're about to be done, you spot another person. Doing the same thing. And they've just spotted you, too._ **

**A very short, very silly AU. Enjoy anyway.**

 

It wasn't her favorite part of the job, that was for damn sure. Usually there were minions around to clean up the aftermath but well, the Director declared that if his agents were able to pull off assassination, they could easily handle a disposal as well. Figured- the last time _he_ was in the field, cops bungled the simplest of crime scenes and most towns had a ten o'clock curfew. Dumping a body in the nearest body of water was all it used to take. Times had changed and so here she was, in the middle of the night up to her eyeballs in dirt, worms, and sweat as she worked the shovel into the ground. 

Darcy's phone buzzed in her pocket and she leaned forward on the shovel, hitting the answer button. 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey Darce, just checking in. You good?” Jane asked, the clatter of computer keys in the background. Aside from being her BFF, Jane also happened to be the best dispatcher and go-to gal around. Anything Darcy or anybody else on H and D (hunting and disposal) needed, Jane was there with the info, quick as a flash. 

“Just doing some light garbage duty. I'll be back once the scene is clear. You?” Darcy switched to speaker phone, lightly dropping her phone onto the damp dirt. 

“Thor's finally off the night shift, so we're actually going out on a real date.” Jane sounded super excited, or at least more excited about it than she did about anything else. 

“God, it's about time. He's been pining for you for about fifty years.” Thor, another Hunter, had been harboring a deep affection for Jane since he'd started up with their company, seemingly years ago now. Darcy didn't know who was luckier- Jane was the most loyal person she'd ever met, and Thor was the coolest. 

A quick, jerking movement caught Darcy's eye, and she turned, disgruntled, back to the vampire-slash- whatever-the-hell-else the monster was. “Ugh, gotta go.” Darcy punched the hang up button, sending a well-aimed kick at the body. It was barely twitching, but with a stake in the heart, it should've been deathly (obviously) still. A stake would've been perfectly sufficient for a half-breed, but this was clearly a full-fledged vamp, though that hadn't been on the evening's roster. Well, what had she expected with Rumlow on recon? He was _so_ fucking demoted. Darcy swore she wouldn't stop pestering Fury until Rumlow was licking the boots of new hires.

The best course of action, or at least Darcy had always found, was the simplest one: when in doubt, decapitation was a wonderful solution to most of, if not all, life's problems. Only now, she seemed to be very without anything long or sharp enough to get the job done if not cleanly, at least quickly. 

Glancing swiftly around, Darcy noticed, for the first time, a figure across the small field. It was clearly a man, tall, broad shouldered...she squinted, and could make out long, dark hair, and he too held a shovel, and if her very sharp vision wasn't playing tricks on her, there was also a huddled mass at his feet. Darcy slipped on her sunglasses, or at least what appeared to be sunglasses- Bruce from downstairs was their resident gadget guy, and he had whipped up a super cool set of spy glasses, complete with night vision, x-ray setting, and zoom feature. Darcy scanned the area around the tall man, and saw, as she tapped the right lens to focus, that he had exactly what she was looking for- a long machete, gleaming in the moonlight. 

Darcy got a closer look at the man. He was in the usual “uniform” of H and D, black from head to toe, and his knowledge of this area was indicative of them working for the same place, as this usually abandoned lot belonged to their current CEO, Tony Stark. She wasn't surprised she didn't recognize him. Stark Industries was forever adding new employees to its ranks, and it was rare for any agents to know each other outside their assigned teams. Whatever this man was burying was tied neatly in a large rucksack, and was as still as the night air. So he was efficient, Darcy had to give him that. 

And hot too, especially in that black leather- but Darcy would have to save that for another time. In a swift (and totally badass, if she did say so herself) motion Darcy pulled another stake from her ankle holster, and jammed it into the vampire's ribs; this would buy her a few minutes anyway. 

Cautiously, but with an assured stride, Darcy made her way across the grass to the stranger. He raised an eyebrow questioningly at her as she approached, but he didn't make a move toward the knives she could see hanging on his belt- in fact, he didn't cease his work at all, except now his eyes were on her instead of the ground. 

“Um...mind if I grab your machete?” Darcy winced the second the words left her mouth; god, she didn't mean it like _that_. She looked Tall, Dark and Homicidal up and down. Hmm...well, actually...

Darcy shook her head abruptly. No, no. No matter how deep those green eyes looked, she had other matters to attend to. The man gestured widely to the weapon in question, and Darcy grabbed it, hurrying back to the now writhing creature and, without ceremony, brought the machete down hard, slicing the vampire's head off with ease. Careful to avoid any of the blood, Darcy wiped the blade as best she could on the grass. The weapon itself was top notch; perfectly balanced, sharpened to perfection. This man took great pains to keep his arsenal in mint condition. 

Darcy glanced back at him, but he was steadily ignoring her now, finishing up his work. She followed suit, and half an hour later had the vampire properly disposed of. Patting the last bit of dirt back into place over the plot, Darcy wiped her hands on her jeans, ready to return the weapon, when with a jolt she realized the owner himself was standing behind her. 

“So, thanks. Um, buy you a coffee? It's the least I can do for...” Darcy limply held out his machete, still dripping with vamp blood, “...this. I'll clean it, if you want. I have some polish in my car-” 

“A kind gesture, I'm sure, but I prefer to do my own maintenance.” His voice was slightly accented, its cadence very attractive. This was a voice you wished could have helped you with your homework in high school; Darcy would've definitely passed Trig if he was the one reading her equations. 

“And the coffee?” Darcy ventured. 

The man inclined his head. “That sounds...quite nice, actually. It has been a long night.” 

Darcy smiled widely. “Great. I know the perfect place.” 

**oooo**

“So, who do you work for?” Darcy stirred her third sugar into her coffee and looked up at the dark-haired man expectantly. She'd driven to her favorite all-night diner, and the man had followed in his car. Now they were comfortably seated in a corner booth. He'd declined to tell her his name, though she had given hers without hesitation. 

He grinned at her. “Am I to assume that question is also pointless to ask you?” 

Darcy matched his smile. “I always hated small talk anyway. The weather, the Mets, blah blah blah.” 

The man nodded. “Especially when you're clearly a Red Sox fan, eh?” 

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know that?” 

He reached across the table, his long, pale fingers trailing over her collar bone, coming to the v-neck of her shirt. Darcy tried to not to pleasantly shudder as he gently yanked out a chain, a small Red Sox emblem dangling at the end of it. 

“I noticed it when you, very efficiently may I add, cut through the _draugur's_ windpipe. Let me guess...a gift from your late father? You do not favor him at all, instead looking like a younger version of your mother. Since your father passed in your preteen years, you cling to anything that reminds you of him, for fear of forgetting him altogether.” 

Darcy sat back against the booth, narrowing her eyes at him, not knowing whether to be insulted, amused, or amazed that he had so accurately guessed something like that based simply on a necklace. She settled on a mix of all three. The waitress swung by their table, dropping off Darcy's pancakes and bacon, and his chicken club. But she was as trained as he was, and two could play that game.

“Now let _me_ guess. You're the youngest- I'm guessing you have just the one brother. Nope, not guessing; I know I'm right. Older bro, definitely daddy's fav. Mom, well, that's a whole other set of issues, right, because she hated how your dad so obviously put your brother above you, so she did her best to keep you both on the same pedestal. Considering how arrogant you are, she failed hardcore at that and it's pretty obvious she likes you better, though she would never admit it.” 

TD and H looked pleased at her assessment and inclined his head at her. “Well spotted. So, Ms. Lewis, how came you to work at- well, where ever it is you work?” 

Darcy poured a liberal amount of maple syrup over her pancakes and thought for a moment. Her origin story wasn't all that unique. She'd started out at SI at the bottom of the barrel- she had been a processing clerk, handling paperwork and filing memos. She then moved on to be a personal assistant to one of the higher ups, a stone-faced but badass woman who was now the Director's right hand. That's how Darcy had met Jane, and they'd become close as sisters. Jane had urged her to join the training program to become a Hunter, and though it had been rough at first, she always welcomed a challenge and a year after entering the program, graduated, and was promoted to H and D. Now she found herself here, summarizing this all for a ridiculously mysterious stranger who was getting more charming by the minute. 

“Anyway, that's all horribly mundane I'm sure. How about you?” 

The man shrugged. “Nothing so painstaking, I assure you. I...owe a debt to someone.” 

Darcy raised an eyebrow. She'd just spilled her entire employment history, and this was all he could give her?

He chuckled, as though able to read her thoughts. “My brother, to be specific. I won't bore you with the sordid details of our estrangement...you can probably guess it for yourself, actually. Suffice it to say that though now I am the picture of loving brotherhood, it was not always this way.” 

“Would I know your brother?” Darcy asked, sipping her coffee.  
“I don't-” 

“ _Darce_?” Darcy snapped her head around, to see Jane and Thor striding towards her. Thor looked as yummy as ever, wearing rugged jeans, a flannel shirt and motorcycle jacket, his long hair pulled halfway up from his face. 

“-think so.” The man finished, his brow furrowed as Thor came directly over to him, and much to Darcy's shock, lifted him from the armpit and pulled him into a rough hug. 

“Loki! At last, you scoundrel!” 

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise- _Loki_ , THE Loki! Of course she'd heard of him, of Thor's brother whom he bragged about to anybody who would listen. Yet Thor had never mentioned that not only was Loki living in the same city, but he was in the same line of work as they were. Thor's stories were mostly about their adolescent antics, however, and Darcy assumed that their current relationship was more long distance. That was pretty typical for their lifestyle- Darcy herself hadn't been home to see her mom in over a year, not that she minded much. Her mom was a day drunk whose favorite pastime was lunching with the Bridge club and milking the grieving widow routine for all it was worth, even though her husband had been dead for twenty years and they'd been on the brink of divorce before his car accident. 

“I see you've met our Darcy- what a small world indeed it is!” Thor reached out, gently squeezing one of Darcy's hands in both of his own. “And this sublime creature is Jane- of course you've heard me talk about her.” Thor gestured to Jane, and Loki gave her an acknowledging nod before turning his green stare back to Darcy.

“Don't let us keep you guys, I know you're on a date.” Darcy said, shooting Jane a furtive look. Jane would definitely want to know how the hell it had happened that the two of them even had met, let alone been at the exact diner herself and Thor had chosen for a quick bite. Darcy herself wasn't really even sure. How strange their lives were when romance had to happen at a 24/7 restaurant out in the boonies.

“So, _Loki_ ,” Darcy let the name roll off her tongue, enjoying the way it felt coming out of her mouth, “where were we?” 

Loki gave her an amused smirk. “I believe you were just on the cusp of accepting my invitation for a glass of wine far, far away from here.” Loki nodded his head towards Jane and Thor's table as Thor let out a booming laugh. Jane, pleased with herself for making Thor laugh, was nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, when she knocked the salt shaker over with her elbow, blushing madly as she tried to sweep the mess from the formica top with her shirtsleeve.

Darcy rose from the table, watching the scene tenderly for a moment. “They are kind of cute, aren't they? Nauseating, though.” She decided, as Thor lifted Jane's hand to his lips. 

“In the extreme.” Loki replied, in answer to her last remark. 

“So, where to?” Darcy asked, as she pulled her wallet out, dismayed to find that Loki had already laid enough bills on the table to cover their meal, as well as a generous tip for the server. 

“I believe,” Loki said, standing next to her, “that you mentioned something about, ah, _polishing_ my machete?” His green eyes were dark, his voice low, beckoning. Darcy's pulse began to race, the air between them suddenly thick with innuendo and adrenaline. 

Loki dropped his hand to the small of her back, his palm finding the strip of bare skin between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. His warm touch sent sparks through her entire body. 

“This way, if you please, Ms. Lewis.” He bent down to whisper to her, his lips brushing for a split second the patch of delicate skin behind her ear. 

Oh, she pleased it, alright, she pleased it _very_ much. 

 

**as ever, feedback is greatly appreciated! draugur: Old Norse word for undead creature**


End file.
